


Handiwork

by the_gayest_sloth_who_ever_gayed



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nail Polish, No Beta read we die like men, i can't believe i wrote 3.5k fic about painting nails, post-promised day because apparently that's my fave setting, they're not together because pinning is a jam of mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gayest_sloth_who_ever_gayed/pseuds/the_gayest_sloth_who_ever_gayed
Summary: Ed offers Ling to paint his nails. Of course, Ling accepts.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Ling Yao
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Handiwork

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this fic to my friend Julia. Thank you for painting my nails that one time and for your advice on this fic!

He adjusts himself, shifting from his seating position into a recline on the wooden floor. Ling watches Ed in amusement, his lips curling into a pleased smile, as the blond pulls out an old shoebox from underneath his bed.

Inside the box, Ling sees rows of multi-colored nail polish bottles. Their clinking noises audibly capture his attention as Ed brings the box towards their seated positions.

It surprises him at first; Ling hadn’t taken Edward as the type to paint his fingernails in various colors (or realistically, shades of reds and black). But he hadn’t seen Ed in years! Anything between the time Ling had ascended the Imperial hierarchy to the time he and Ed finally came around to writing each other letters consistently to finally visiting his hometown could have happened.

“You have so many fun colors, yet you choose to paint your nails black,” Ling chortles, sprawling his body out further and resting his head onto his propped hands. “You’re gothic as ever, Ed.”

“Tch. That’s only because you haven’t seen me wear other colors. You just happened to visit me when I picked licorice black for the week.” Edward huffs. 

He pushes the shoebox towards Ling and instructs him, “Pick out a color before I change my mind”.

“Oh, don’t be like that- I’m only teasing,” Ling pouts. He chooses a lime green bottle from the box, and Ed sets the box aside. Edward pulls out a cuticle clipper and takes one of Ling’s hands into his.

Ling's heart flutters from having his hand be held by Ed. It’s only an inspection, but it feels intimate to him.

“Damn, you have so many hangnails,” Ed mutters. “Aren’t Emperors supposed to be well-kept and all that shit?”

Ears hot, Ling responds, “Of course! It’s improper for the emperor to be poorly dressed, but only my advisors can see my hands up close.”

“Yeah, but these are nasty,” Ed declares. Ling grins. How cute! Ed’s fixation on trimming Ling’s loose hangnails is adorable.  
Ed begins his work, having Ling soak his hands into a bowl of water before he trims Ling’s hangnails one by one, finger by finger. Ling makes small talk with Ed about the happenings in Resembool. 

He asks Ed about his recent adventures traveling and his academic research to which Ed fills him in. Being considerate, he asks about his time with Alphonse before he decided to join Mei in Xing, and he asks Winry and her work. Ed answers all the while carefully trimming Ling’s loose hangnails, frequently reviewing his handiwork closely.

He rolls Ling’s fingers between his own, and suddenly Ling is highly aware of Ed’s warm touch.

More importantly that Ed is holding his hand so close to his face in observation.

It does wonders to him- his heart flutters in a way that makes him want to giggle and curl next to Ed, yet he keeps himself composed. After all, it’s unlike Ed to offer him a manicure, and Ling wants to savor each second as much as he can.

But his feelings give him away because Ling smiles ear to ear. Ed raises his brows in response.

“What?” Ed asks, glancing between Ling’s eyes to his hands. He studies his hands to find any cuticles he may have missed before setting the clippers down and picking up the green nail polish. He shakes the bottle, swishing the metallic ball inside against the glass. 

“You’re really cute,” Ling hums. He flexes his fingers out, examining Ed’s work so far. “Not bad! You really know your stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Ed replies, motioning Ling to bring his hand back to him. 

Ling does so, and he makes note how much warmer Ed’s right hand is now compared to his previous metal hand he briefly touched in the past.

It’s rough yet softer than his left hand that has been calloused from his strenuous youth, but Ling knows Ed isn’t one to sit still. He’s bound to pick up tactile hobbies and roughen up his new hand (or is it new if it was always his hand?)

Ed untwists the cap off with his right hand ( a weird flex, but it does excite Ling a bit) and brushes off the excessive nail polish. He studies Ling’s hand in his left hand and slowly paints his nails, painting the first base coat with precision.

Clearly, Ed’s done this before as he stays focused.

From a combination of being held and being amused by Ed putting so much effort into his manicure, Ling dares to ask.

“So what’s the story? Did Winry coerce you into painting her nails? Is that how you got into nail painting?”

“Nah- Winry’s not into this sort of stuff. She prefers grease to nail polish on her nails,” Ed answers.

He accidentally paints outside of Ling’s ring fingernail and curses. Ed hastily wipes off his mistake with a washcloth nearby semi abrasively.

He expects Ling to whine and to tell him to be gentle with his fingers because he’s the Emperor and “ah, Ed, that’s no way to treat royalty”. Instead, he’s caught off guard by Ling’s flustered expression.

Huh. Okay. Not what he had expected.

“What’s got you worked up?” he inquires, rolling Ling’s finger between his index and middle finger. He smirks, “ If you don’t like the manicure, then you can have someone else do it.”

“Ah no, this is perfect,” Ling chirps. “It’s not every day that you offer me a manicure!”

Once he’s satisfied with his clean up, Ed returns to painting Ling’s hand. He finishes painting the base coats and instructs Ling to let the paint dry. 

Ling does so, keeping his hands flared and away from his body to avoid smudging Ed’s craft.

From the base coats alone, Ling already cherishes the green paint. They invoke a soft feeling inside him, and he wants to treasure them.

“Thank you,” He says, examining his nails

He will have to ask his eunuchs to dress his nails when he returns to Xing, but they could never replicate Ed’s craft. He supposes he can try and preserve them as much as he can, given his circumstances.

Although he sits most of the day, Ling knows that his painted nails wouldn’t last forever. He would chip the green polish away during his spars with Lan Fan or from his bad habit of chewing his nails when he feels overwhelmed by the large piles of paperwork that sits urgently on his desk by nightfall. 

But he can try his best to preserve them.

Maybe he could convince Ed to be his personal manicurist? It would certainly give Ling all the excuses to flirt with Ed in his palace. It annoys him that he has to be formal all day long- as long as he wears his robes and his crown. At least here at Ed’s place, he can truly be himself and ditch the formal speech and attire. He can just be Ling with newly painted lime green nails with Ed in his room.

Ed smiles, proud of his handiwork, nodding his head. His work here is done, and it’s time to put it away. He twists the nail polish cap close tightly, and he returns it to the box.

He tucks the shoebox under his bed and goes to stand up when Ling stops him.

“Can I paint your nails?”

Ed shoots him a suspicious look. “Why?”

Ling, with his hands stretched out to avoid smudging his wet nails, smiles. “Because you painted mine, and I want to return the favor. It’ll be that thing you once said- equivalent exchange I think?”

Ed wrinkles his nose, his lips turning into a scowl. “Have you ever painted nails before?”

“Nope!”

“Then it wouldn’t be a good exchange. You’ll get nail polish everywhere.”

“Maybe! Or maybe not!” Ling hums thoughtfully. “But you could be my first success! We won’t know until we try! Please, Ed? I’ll try my best!” 

He clasps Ed’s hands into his own, leaning into Ed’s personal space. Ling casts his best puppy eyes, pleading to convince him otherwise.

“Hey, hey! At least let the paint dry first!” Ed warns him. He takes Ling’s hands apart and separates them into his own, locking his hands to keep his nails from touching.

And suddenly, Ed’s very self-conscious of Ling’s rough hands entangled in his own. He tries to keep his cool, not wanting Ling to see him become flustered, but he fails. His eyebrows twitch at the realization, and before he can stop himself, his face flares into a deep crimson.

Ling chuckles at the sight, not realizing the reason why until he looks at his own hands being held. He takes a sharp breath, flushing in his turn.

It’s one thing for Ed to hold his hand steadily to paint even coats onto his fingernails than it is to have both of his hands be held softly in Ed’s hands.

They hold hands for what seems like hours, their own hearts thrumming into an obnoxious rhythm; Ed could feel them through their fingertips. If they sit any longer, maybe Ed would be able to recite Ling’s heartbeat to himself later in the day. Instead, he chokes on the thought and finds the strength to let go. His fingers twitch as soon as they return to his lap.

A soft sigh of disappointment escapes Ling. I guess that’s that, he thinks.

Perhaps Ed heard his disappointment and pitied him or by some chance, he has a change of heart because he studies Ling for a moment and stands up to leave the room. He’s gone for a brief movement, and when he returns, Ling sees a bottle with bright blue liquid and cotton balls in his hands.

He sits down, crisscrossing his legs into a lotus position. He opens the liquid bottle, untwisting the cap effortlessly. The sight raises Ling’s spirits.

“Okay, Ling- give it a shot,” he says, pressing a cotton ball to the bottle’s opening and soaking it with its liquid. Ed dabs the cotton ball onto his nails, erasing his previously dark nails. “But, just so you know, I only like black and red.”

Ling nods exuberantly as Ed finishes removing the black nail polish, wiping them clean.  
He reaches for his box and slides it over to Ling, putting his trust in him to make the right choice.

Anyone who had told Ling that black only existed as one shade has obviously not met Ed. Inside of the box, Ling finds several vials of black nail polish- Orca Black, Charcoal Black, Emo Black, Dark Eyes Black-

“Wow, Ed. I knew you can be such a goth, but this is excessive!” Ling giggles, comparing the black bottles one by one.

Ed snorts, “Not enough!”

Ling settles between Dark Eyes and a red bottle labeled Rose Bud. He plans to paint Ed’s nails with a black base and to paint a red design, something that would make Ed pleased. Ed didn’t have a lick of fashion, so as long as it was gaudy, Ling isn’t too worried about what the design has to be. 

He reaches for Ed’s hand, but the blond shakes his head, refusing to hand over his hand.

“You should open the bottles first. That way, when you have my hand, you won’t struggle to open them.”

“Ah, good point.” Ling does that, twisting the black bottle's cap open. He reaches for Ed’s hand next to which he complies without hesitation.

It’s different, Ling muses, holding Ed’s hand in his. In the previous hand-holding, Ling could feel Ed’s pulse through his fingers, and if Ling had grounded himself and concentrated on his pulse, Ling would have felt his own chi intertwine with Ed’s, and now, Ed’s pulse, compared to their previously messy rhythm, had slowed.

He chooses not to study Ed’s pulse despite the clarity. Ed would find that to be an invasion of privacy. The last thing Ling wants is Ed to think he’s taking advantage of him during his first nail painting attempt.

He does acknowledge, however, that Ed’s pulse beats above the average heart rate, and unless Ed does have some underlying health problem, Ling smiles to himself. It’s a pleasant thought to think that he is the cause for Ed’s cardiac rhythm.

Well, he did ask to paint Ed’s nails, didn’t he?

Ling takes the paintbrush from its bottle and paints Ed’s thumbnail first.

There’s an excessive amount of paint gathering at the brush’s end to which Ed eyes, wide and alert. Ling sees his alarmed gaze and quickly paints the first base coat on his nail, and he wipes the remaining paint that has gathered into a ball into its bottle, seconds away from falling onto the wooden floor.

Ed sighs in relief, prompting Ling to laugh.

“You’ll need to even out the coating, “ Ed instructs, “You don't want an uneven coat. Too much nail polish on one side will become tacky and take longer to dry.”

Ling takes Ed’s advice and evens out the paint to the best he can.

When it seems even enough, Ed pulls his hand away from Lings and inspects his freshly painted black thumbnail.

His lips turn upward, a pleased noise escaping from them.

“Not bad for the first one,” he praises Ling and returns his hand to him. Ling rocks in his seat and smiles goofily, accepting his compliment. Yeah! His first try ever is a success, and Ed likes it!

Motivated by his compliment, Ling returns to his handwork and paints the remaining fingernails to the best of his ability.

He’s doing a remarkable job for his time until he arrives at Ed's ring finger. Having used most of the polish on the previous fingernails, Ling replenishes the brush with polish and paints his nail. He underestimates how much coverage the ring fingernail needs and accidentally paints a large glop outside the nail’s perimeter.

Of course, Ed sees this, which embarrasses Ling.

He tries to fix his mistake by wiping it off with the brush, but despite picking up the blob, an unsightly smear remains on Ed’s finger. Unceremoniously, Ling quickly moves on to Ed’s pinky and paints a mediocre coating with the remaining nail polish.

He would consider this a saving success if it was his own nails. But this was done to Ed’s nails, so it was far from perfect. He hesitates to look at Ed when he feels his hand pull away from his grasp to study his mess. So much for being favorable to him.

“Wow… that was a 180,” he says bluntly. 

“I did my best!” Ling barks out a laugh, hiding his embarrassment and feeling his cheeks reddened. “I’m not as skilled as you are!”

“Save your excuses for later, Ling,” Ed smirks. He hands him his other hand. “Try again.”

“You want me to ruin your other hand?” Ling teases as he prepares for the next hand, dipping the brush into its bottle.

“No, dumbass. I want you to do better.” Ed huffs, but his eyes are filled with warmth. As if he was feeding off a high from being superior to Ling in a small cosmetic hobby.

Whether he had meant to show his power over Ling or not, Ling finds his confidence alluring and somewhat seductive. The way Ed’s eyes gleamed with amusement and his lips tugging into a perfectly fitted smirk. 

Ed’s prompted cough pulls Ling out of his fixation, and Ling prepares to paint his next hand.

Painting his left hand goes smoother than his right. Ling manages to not make a noticeable mistake this time; the painted nails are not perfect, but he keeps the tiny blotches of paint outside of Ed’s nails to a minimum. His only noteworthy faults are that he had painted past Ed’s middle and pinky fingernail’s surface area, barely noticeable from a visual distance (but not to Ed’s keen eyes.

Ed doesn’t chastise him for his mistakes to which Ling is relieved. Instead, when Ed reviews his left hand, he smiles warmly.

Ling seals the black bottle cap shut and leans towards Ed, tucking his hands under his thighs.

“Well?” 

“It’s ass, but it’ll do,” the blond says nonchalantly. His lips say otherwise. Satisfaction reaches his eyes.

“Yay! Maybe we can be nail buddies! I can plan for more days off, and we can have more sleepovers and paint our toes next! We can paint them cute colors and stuff!” Ling blabs excitedly. 

“We’ll see,” Ed replies.

Ling remembers about the red bottle and prepares the brush.

“Give me your hands again! I’ve seen people with cute nail designs, and I want to try and paint you something to remember me by.”

“What? With chunky blobs?” Ed scoffs as he returns his right hand to Ling.

“I was thinking of a flower actually. If I go slow enough, maybe a rose.”

So then Ling goes to work. He concentrates for a moment, capturing the imaginary flower in his head, and draws in a breath for good luck.

His strokes are far more gentle than when he had previously used the black nail polish. He realistically knows he’s a novice at painting. He can’t master this in little less than an hour, but he is determined to at least paint a basic five-pointed flower on each of Ed’s hands.

Edward can’t help but admire Ling’s concentration as he paints. The way that Ling knits his brows and sticks his tongue out… it’s precious.

“Therapy,” he says finally.

Ling looks up from Ed’s hand and tilts his head inquisitively.

Ed explains, “ I began painting my nails as part of my physical therapy. After I got my right hand back, I had to relearn how to use it. It was easy enough at first, learning how to hold items, clenching my hand into a fist… But the hardest part to relearn was how to write with it. I used to be right handed, you know? Before everything that is.”

Ed flexes his left hand. Ling studies it with him. “The colonel bastard used to call my handwriting chicken scratch a lot. Tch. That asshole,” he says with a hum.

“You’re ambidextrous then,” Ling observes.

Ed nods, and his amused expression morphs into a grimace, recalling his therapy. “Yeah. It took a while to relearn how to use my right hand’s fine motor skills. I wasn’t able to twist things with my fingers, let alone roll a pencil between them.”

Ed turns to Ling, noticing that he had stopped his painting process. “Uh, you can keep painting, Ling.” He says softly.

Ling nods and listens to Ed reminiscence. Any memory of Ed’s, albeit full of love or hurt, Ling wants to hear.

“My physical therapist recommended me to pick up a hobby that required me to use my fine motor skills. I tried sewing and embroidery.” He wiggles his left fingers and cheekily smiles, “ but I kept stabbing myself so I gave up on that.”

Ling barks a laugh. He can't help it- the image of Ed swearing from pricking his fingers with an unfinished embroidery in his hands is amazing. 

“Shut up,” Ed flushes.

“I can’t! Tell me, did you try and stitch a poetic line? Like, say, “Eat shit”? Or, what was it that you used to say to Greed? A classic “get fucked”?” Ling bats his eyelashes, proud of his witty comment.

“ANYWAYS! Winry mentioned fingernail painting, so I gave that a go. At first, I only had black nail polish for myself, but then Winry wanted me to paint her nails for practice. She didn’t like black, so I had to buy her blues, greens, and pinks. And then Al got jealous and wanted his nails done too!”

Ed erupts into laughter, his shoulders shaking with positive energy. Ling joins him, finding the story cute.

He finishes the first flower. It’s not amazing or life-changing, but Ling thinks it’s a good enough gift for Ed.

Ed switches his hands and continues, “It makes them happy. So it became a hobby of mine. That’s it.”

“It sounds so sweet though,” Ling hums. “You’ve always been the giving type, Ed, so it doesn’t surprise me.”

Without telling Ed, Ling decides to forgo the second flower and decides to paint a bulbous heart on Ed’s left ring fingernail, his own heart bleeding out for the boy he’s holding in his hand.

“Nail polish makes you think of them each time you paint, yeah?”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

The red sloppy heart is finished. Ling giggles when he lets go of Ed’s hand, and he closes the red nail polish bottle and returns it to the shoebox.

Edwards studies the designs. The flower isn’t so bad. He can tell that it’s supposed to be a flower, so that’s good. As for the heart... Well… It’s not really his cup of tea. It’s cheesy as fuck, and it’s not the kind of gothic romance he had once embarrassingly fantasized as an angsty teen.

He does, however, appreciate that between him and Ling, the royal emperor is more honest with his feelings.

Maybe not tonight, but before Ling leaves for the afternoon train tomorrow, Ed can find the strength to tell Ling that he enjoyed his hands being held and that they should do this more. 

Maybe.

“Thanks, Ling. I guess you’re not the worst at painting nails.” he smiles softly.

“Sooooo… What’s the verdict, Ed? Future manicure parties?” Ling says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sure.”

Ling does a small dance in his seat, and Ed laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
